


Hot Lunch

by mhunter10



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 20:50:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8504908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: Mickey and Ian help in the Cafeteria





	

“Everyone, this is Ian Gallagher. He’s–”

“Poor too?” A boy with dark hair and dramatic eyebrows said. Only three of the other kids tittered, but he didn’t seem to care.

Ms. Greenie, the lunch lady, sighed but continued. “He’ll be joining us sometimes, so introduce yourselves and behave.” She looked directly at the snarky boy then turned back to Ian, patting his shoulder. “Why don’t you work with Mickey, alright darlin’? He’s doing the tots,” she pointed to the trays lined with frozen tater tots ready for the giant cafeteria oven. She smiled to all the kids then left.

Ian nodded and went over to the boy called Mickey, who scoffed in general as he haphazardly dumped the icy bag over.

“We call her Ms. Greedy ‘cause she’s always got her fat fingers in the food,” Mickey said over the hum of kitchen machinery and activity.

“Only you and Eddie call her that because you’re immature,” one of the only two girls said. She stopped snapping string beans and looked at Ian. “I’m Charletta, that’s Macy, Eddie, Gabe, and I guess Mickey.”

They all waved and Ian waved back. Mickey gave her the finger and Eddie snickered.

“You don’t scare me, Milkovich,” Charletta crossed her arms.

“Wasn’t trying to, big mouth,” Mickey smirked when she closed her mouth and looked away, arms dropping to her sides.

“Hey, nice apron,” Ian finally spoke calmly to Mickey, a silent challenge in his eyes.

And Mickey’s face got redder than the ketchup bottles Eddie was filling. He blinked at Ian a couple times then licked his lips and tried to recover.

“Shut the fuck up,” was all he had. The damage was done, though. Gabe and Eddie shared looks, Charletta looked like she wanted to laugh out loud and Macy looked in love. Who the hell did this kid think he was? He wanted to punch that smug smile off his face or something. Instead he shoved the last frozen bag into his stomach, knocking the air out of him, and stalked to the walk-in freezer.

He was looking around for the giant jugs of salad dressing and spotted them on a high shelf when the door opened.

“Hey, I’m sorry, Mickey. You shouldn’t make fun of people if you can’t take it yourself, though,” Ian said. It was cold in there and he saw Mickey looking up at the dressing. He moved closer and reached up, grabbing two at a time and handing them to him.

Mickey watched him pull his sweatshirt back down then looked up at him. He wasn’t much taller, and he definitely looked like he missed a few meals. But he seemed strong, like he worked out so people wouldn’t notice. Mickey understood, he had to be strong to fight off his dad. Ian was still standing close to him.

He sneered and stepped back. “I would’ve respected you more if you hadn’t apologized.”

Ian shrugged, grinning goofily. “I have a lot of siblings and my older sister didn’t raise no bullies.”

Mickey snorted. “That’s all my drunk dad raised. In my family we don’t say sorry, we hit harder.” He looked back at Ian then furrowed his eyebrows at the pity on his face. “Don’t you fucking look at me like that. Your ass is here for free lunch too, so it must not be all sunshine and rainbows at home either.”

Ian shook his head, opening his mouth to apologize then closing it. He looked around at all the stuff in there and shivered a little. “My dad’s a drunk. Mom’s bipolar. Haven’t seen her since I was five.”

“My moms is dead.”

Ian sighed, feeling stupider the more he talked. “It’s not a competition…” he got quieter,“…wish she was dead though, sometimes, so we all wouldn’t worry.”

Mickey nodded. He understood that too. Maybe this kid wasn’t so bad.

“What’s up with Gabe?” Ian suddenly asked, changing the subject.

Mickey laughed appreciatively. “ESOL kid. Doesn’t understand much, but he likes to play it up for Ms. Greenie. He’s pretty funny.”

Ian nodded, smiling. “No wonder he just stared at me when I asked about you.”

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You asked about me?”

Ian turned red and shuffled nervously. “Um…”

The door opened and Macy stuck her head in. She was heavy with short hair and bangs. She smiled with baby blue braces. “Do you want to help us with the fruit salad?”

“Fuck no,” Mickey answered automatically.

Macy frowned at him. “Not you, numb nuts.” She smiled expectantly at Ian.

Ian smirked, scratching the back of his head. “Uh, sure. Yeah, okay.”

“Great!” she clapped her hands then started grabbing different fruit and shoving them towards him.

Mickey stood there, feeling a little left out. Whatever. Screw them. He had little plastic cups to fill with salad dressing anyway. Of course, it would take a little longer now…but Ian could do whatever he fucking wanted. He doesn’t know why he even stuck around to chit chat anyway. He left quickly, not looking at Ian.

“Shit!” Mickey hissed, spilling ranch all over the metal table for the fifth time. He yanked his towel from his back pocket and smeared up the mess.

“You haven’t finished with those yet, Milkovich? Lunch starts in thirty and the cookies still haven’t been put out yet,” Ms. Greenie demanded, gloved hands on her hips. She shook her head and moved on to supervise Eddie and Gabe filling the milk trough with ice.

Mickey made a face behind her back, sticking his tongue out. Ian laughed. He hadn’t realized he’d been watching. When had he taken his sweatshirt off?

“She seemed nicer before,” Ian commented, not paying attention to what he was doing. He’d actually been watching the other boy struggle for the last twenty minutes, sneaking glances and feeling bad for agreeing to help the girls.

Mickey smiled, finishing up the last cups and capping them. “She’s either hungry or it’s almost show time,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

Ian laughed and the knife slipped in his hand, knicking his finger. “Ow, fuck!” he dropped the knife and held his hand as blood beaded at the cut.

“Oh my God! We should go to the nurse!” Macy screamed, grabbing at Ian’s arm.

“Ew, I can’t stand blood,” Charletta shuddered, covering her mouth and stomach.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Wait til you get your period.” That toned down the dramatics. Since Ms. Greenie seemed to be too preoccupied, he came over to Ian and held his hand out. He felt a tingle roll through him when Ian gave him his hand, and swallowed. “It’s just a little cut. C'mon,” he started to pull Ian with him, but Macy stood in front of them.

“Where are you taking him?” she asked, staring daggers.

“Why do you care, you got a crush or something? None of your fucking business.” Mickey hadn’t actually meant to be that rude. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much that this stupid girl was acting like Ian was her prince charming. It wasn’t like he felt that way. At all. Ian was alright. A little pompous, but all pubescent boys were. It was all about impressing girls, but Ian didn’t seem to really care or try. He’d actually looked a little miserable listening to the girls blabber on and on.

Nevertheless, Macy cowered away, probably feeling insecure or some girly nonsense like that. But Ian let Mickey hold his hand under cold water at the sink, and he almost felt like rubbing it in and dancing for some stupid reason. He led him to the dry pantry, which doubled as an office, and found the bandages in a drawer.

Ian held still and watched him carefully tend to his finger. It hadn’t hurt all that much, but maybe it was because he felt so giddy that Mickey took charge. Apparently he could be nice while still being an asshole, and it was kind of cute. He looked up when he was done and smiled sheepishly.

“Good thing we’re almost done. Wouldn’t want someone to eat a bandaid,” he said, feeling stupid for the comment.

Mickey made a face then frowned. “Shit. The cookies,” he looked at the trays of cookies waiting to be individually wrapped.

“I’ll help,” Ian said, immediately springing to action. He grabbed the roll of cling-wrap and started wrapping the cookies Mickey handed to him.

Within minutes, they had them all done and ready to go.

“We just gotta put them in that basket and bring them to the line,” Mickey instructed.

Ian nodded, reaching for it on the top shelf. He was close, but his fingers barely brushed it. “Can’t get it. Here, let me lift you.”

“What? No!” Mickey shook his head, eyes wide. He was already flustered enough seeing Ian’s stomach under his tight shirt. “Can’t you use that chair or something?”

“A rolling chair, Mick? You want me to break my neck?” Ian asked incredulously.

Mickey sputtered at Ian’s nickname, and almost admitted it would be better if he was severely injured. At least Mickey wouldn’t feel this weird edgy feeling. He licked his lips and took a breath. “Fine.”

Ian kept his smile to himself, as he bent slightly and wrapped his arms firmly around Mickey’s waist. Then he stood straight, lifting Mickey just high enough to pull the basket down on them. They laughed, Ian losing his grip so Mickey slid down his front to the floor.

“We make a great team,” Ian said quietly, steadying Mickey but reluctant to let go.

“Sure, whatever,” Mickey said, eyes darting between Ian’s mouth and eyes. Their clothes were rumpled between them and they were still pressed close and it was warm and smelled like cookies and fuck! Mickey felt his dick harden in his pants, but he wasn’t the only one.

“Sorry,” Ian panted, realizing Mickey could feel him, but he turned them so Mickey was up against the shelves.

Mickey gasped when the move made them rub together. He licked his lips and swallowed hard. “Would’ve respected you more if you hadn’t–”

Ian surged forward and kissed Mickey quickly, then pulled away.

Mickey’s eyes were closed and his mouth still puckered slightly, before he opened them slowly and looked up at Ian. His body was on fire. His heart raced and his legs felt numb. And damn, he was solid as a rock straining against his jeans. He opened his mouth and leaned forward, Ian immediately connecting them again. They kissed for a while, hands not straying too much as they were too focused on the mind-blowing friction making them want to come way too fucking fast. Being a teenager sucked sometimes.

Mickey felt a groan in his throat as he felt himself getting closer. Ian kept kissing him hard, panting and rutting and quickly losing control.

They heard footsteps coming and broke apart, scrambling to fix themselves and calm down enough despite being extremely close to blowing their loads. Mickey wiped at his red pouty lips as he gathered the wrapped cookies, and Ian grabbed the basket and put it in front of him.

“Mickey, you done with those cookies? The kids are starting to line up,” Ms. Greenie yelled before coming into the pantry.

“Just helping him, miss,” Ian smiled.

She smiled. “That was nice of you, darlin’. Maybe you’ll rub off on Mickey someday.”

“I hope so,” Ian grinned, looking directly at Mickey, who dropped several cookies.

Ms. Greenie shook her head at him. “Hurry up, boys. It’s show time!” She turned and left to start serving lunch.

“You’re a dick,” Mickey said, placing the last cookies in the basket.

Ian laughed then cleared his throat. “So, uh…what–”

“Meet me in the second floor bathroom after lunch,” Mickey said, smiling at Ian’s eager grin before he left.

Ian was going to like the hot lunch program a lot.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a one shot I thought of, remembering when I used to help in the cafeteria when I was younger. Apparently I gravitated to the food/hospitality industry at a young age…haha
> 
> Anyway, hope you like it :)
> 
> And /orange/ you glad I didn’t say redhead once? :P


End file.
